


Pursuit of Trying

by riverleafing



Category: Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Deception, Developing Relationship, F/F, Secret Intelligence Service | MI6, Spies & Secret Agents, Trust Issues, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverleafing/pseuds/riverleafing
Summary: Until the release ofZombie Exodus: Safe Haven, chapter 3 (expected some time in 2020), this excerpt had to come out of my head for my MC's developing relationship with Rachel! The "Nightfall Survivors", out of Nightfall, Colorado, almost unanimously elected Kayla as their go-to group leader.At the pandemic outbreak of the Zombie-creating Zeta virus:- The highly capable but secretiveRachel(with a slight English accent) was working a partnership with the CIA from a UK Black Ops position, often directed to seduction and/or assassination. She is tall and lithe, in her 30s, brown eyes, shoulder-length light brown hair cut to a sharp bob. Superiorly skilled at reading people, using range and close combat weapons, and in survivalist needs.- The main character,Kayla Hart, is a former military officer with a Masters in Cognitive Psychology; she was working as a civilian with US Department of Defense in strategic military deception with working experience at other 3-letter agencies in Washington, DC. She is a fit 5'7", 38 y/o, green eyes, silver-flecked short, brown hair.  Highly perceptive, observant scavenger, creative crafter, & expertly capable at various using ranged weapons.





	1. Can't Fool Me... Can you?

Again, I sense an inauthenticity to her actions. I cannot abide by that anymore. I place my hand against her upper chest and firmly press her away.

“What’s wrong?”

“Look, Rachel. You don’t have to feel obligated to do any of this.”

Although her lightly confused expression doesn’t change, her eyes cloud as if running through response preparations to what I might say next. “What do you mean?” she asks, extending the time of her calculations.

I sigh and put on my own logical tone to help her understand this discussion is not coming from an emotional place. “You know I’m attracted to you, and I admire you… as much as I can from observing you so far, anyway. But you should understand I greatly value your input, regardless of any closeness between us. Any further affection I may develop for you, frankly, will not enhance any persuasion over my actions. … I don’t actually need anything from you, Rachel. You should know, you really don’t have to make any effort to play into a role with me.”

Rachel’s eyes widen for a moment before she recovers. Perhaps my open confession was not among her calculations. Still, she offers another unrevealing response. “You certainly don’t hide your feelings, do you?” she smiles in a way that still seems a little forced.

I gaze at her with a neutral expression. For a few beats she gazes back at me, seemingly also trying to read me. She must realize I’m nearly as intuitive as she is observant in human tells. Not leaving my gaze, in a low tone she suddenly seems to gamble with a soft admission, “I’m not certain I know how to play outside of a role with others anymore.”

I narrow my eyes to glean if this is another role she’s slipped into in an attempt to gain a foothold in potential manipulation, but quickly recognize I can’t truly know that without given more time. Carefully considering the difference of her experience with my—more removed—strategic level of deception, I choose to reach for an empathetic response. “I imagine it can’t be easy to live with one’s true self, given the sort of tactical duties you’ve likely have had to accomplish.” I watch her for a moment to see if I hit near a mark, but the atmosphere between us still feels intensely thick with caution and uncertainty. “Still, I would like to know you, the real you, if possible. At the very least, to let you know you shouldn’t pursue something more intimate with me—unless it’s purely for selfish, personal reasons.” I smirk lightly. I clarify with the addition, “Otherwise, we’d both be wasting efforts without any real gain.”

Rachel’s expression goes neutral, but I can tell she’s listening and genuinely considering my thoughts.

“With my particular military career experience,” I continue, “you should know I understand the safety in deception; I can play into that, if you need it for external reasons, but either way I want to know the truth of the matter so I know how to operate. It won’t benefit either of us to chance losing the trust I have in you right now. It’s best not to hold any false pretenses with me for you to keep this advantage you have.”

After a pause in silence Rachel breathes in deeply though her nose before speaking again in a low, private tone. “It sounds reasonable …in theory.” She watches me cautiously a moment longer before a long smile slowly crosses her face. “You’re a unique one, Kayla.”

I chuckle sardonically, “Yeah, me the unique snowflake.” But she doesn’t chuckle with me. Instead she regards me with new observant eyes.

“You’re unique, Kayla,” she defends, “in the way that you’re the first person outside work that I truly considered wanting to try to be truthful with.”

I lose my smile, again feeling cautious about getting my heart involved just yet in hoping this was truth.

She must see the lingering doubt on my face because she adds a frankness to her next straightforward response. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that well, however. Harder to accomplish something in such unknown territory for me.”

“Then we’ll be colleagues,” I reply resolutely.

Rachel’s eyes soften and slowly dance over my face with a surprisingly open expression. Her next words come out almost as if a wistful thought to herself, “I’m not actually sure I would always want that with you.”

I give her time to return her eyes to mine, her face to return to her usual cautious and observational one. I consider a moment on how to proceed.

“Then we’ll play it by ear,” I concede, “and privately discuss it when there’s something we want to change.” I watch Rachel nod once in agreement. “First, I’ll admit directly that I do enjoy flirting and showing affection. To be clear, I don’t actually want a sexual relationship with someone without knowing them first. Sometimes I forget that’s not as obvious for others. I apologize. Has my occasional flirting or shows of affection made you uncomfortable? Made you feel like you needed to reciprocate with something?”

“More of the latter, honestly. Seduction, you might guess, is not where my strongest skills shine, but I’ve quickly recognized most interested people expect some kind of reciprocation for me to get anything from them.”

I pause awhile, considering her words and the candidness at which they seemed to have.

“Would you like me to stop?”

“No.”

I raise my eyebrows slightly at the quick certitude of her answer.

“I mean, that won’t be necessary. Knowing that you won’t actually expect something more from me should be enough. …And, to know if you’re truly okay with the fact it could take quite a while for me to be comfortable with revealing—or even knowing how to reveal—an honest and more personal side of myself.”

The corner of my lips quirk up in an appreciative smile at the insinuated question. “Yes, I’m very okay with that.” My smile grows till I can feel the crinkling of my eyes, “Thank you, Rachel. For being open to discuss this with me.”

“Thank you for being so uniquely understanding, Kayla. And for exposing me more to your very American directness,” she teases with grin, revealing her small dimples. “So! Ready for the complications?”

I laugh at that. “I guess we’ll see together,” I reply with a grin. I thread my fingers through hers to give her hand a squeeze. “I’ll head out to find a way to craft another tent. As much as I’d still love a cuddle with you, there ought to be a ‘guaranteed no obligations’ shelter available.”

Rachel smiles at me. “I’m sure many other here might also appreciate the option.”

“Mm, true.” Of course she would have noticed the coupling of several of our survivor party, too. I’ve lightly considered it before that their situations could pose some interesting changes to the dynamics of our group. It might be the optimism in me, but I think theirs could be more complicated for everyone else than whatever this could be between me and Rachel.

It’s an unusual but good feeling to trust in someone’s emotional intelligence, or the potential in sharing in on a deception. I look forward to knowing anything of the real version of Rachel, but I already suspect she might not like it enough to share much. Still, I deeply sense a worthiness in the pursuit of trying.

I smile at her with an open fondness, nod and exit the tent as she begins to pull her black shirt back on, “See you in a bit, then.”


	2. What to Believe?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weeks after the first chapter, the group has moved to a remote junkyard some miles away from the hilltop and interstate.  
> Kayla and Rachel are newly rooming together in a small apartment above the maintenance garage, overlooking the junkyard.

**_Early one morning..._ **

Grinning, I hold the gold band between my fingertips out to her. “Wanna get fake hitched with me?”

Rachel turned around to see I’ve found a ring in the bedside table of our shared room. After a pause, her eyes flick up to mine as a sorrowful look clouds her face. “I’m already married,” she replies in a soft, apologetic tone.

At her words, my smile falters and my hand lowers robotically as if attached to some pneumatic arm, slowly losing air pressure. A thousand realizations flood me at once. I was joking, but—clearly by the way her confession hits me—I realize I was subconsciously wanting something more intimate between us to be closer to true someday. I begin to feel waves of embarrassment over the way I’ve been feeling towards Rachel.

I stand up, tucking the ring into my pocket before turning away to the window. I rub the back of my neck, chastising myself internally. “What an idiot I’ve been. Of course an intelligent, highly capable and attractive woman would have a partner,” I mutter with a chuckle at myself. I place my hands on my hips to gaze out the window at nothing, mentally processing my past actions with new eyes. I turn back to Rachel with a sudden and urgent concern, “Are they okay? Do you know where they are so we can try to get to them?”

Her eyes widen and her mouth opens as if she’s about to say something but she closes it again, now only looking into my eyes directly.

I avert my gaze to the floor, embarrassed. “I’m sorry for any discomfort I’ve caused you up till now. I’ve been a real fool to not ask you. And for not getting it through my head sooner why you might not really care for my affections.”

Rachel’s eyes soften. “I appreciate your concern, but you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. To be fair, I didn’t let you know my circumstances. And, honestly, it isn’t something that I’m used to telling anyone about at all... for work reasons.”

I cast my eyes back up to hers, nodding faintly in acknowledgement. For safety of spouse and family, in her line of work, I could imagine she would _naturally_ keep such personal things particularly private.

“Vince,” she offers, “is not my cousin.” Lightly grimacing, her eyes roll to the right as she adds, “...and was sort of one of my superiors.”

My lips part in surprise as I fit this new piece of information into the puzzle of information I know. “And you still don’t know where he might be… after your last task?”

She slowly shakes her head and casts her eyes away. Her brows furrow as if remembering something, debating what more to say about it.

An awkward silence permeates the room.

“For what it’s worth,” Rachel breaks in, “I didn’t really mind your _affections _towards me.”__  
For the first time ever, I see a flash of sincere and deep vulnerability cross her face.  
  
She swallows as she looks away to regain composure, “I mean, I should apologize too. I suppose a part of me began to enjoy our connection, even beyond my original efforts to influence, and I maybe didn’t really want— I’m sorry that I didn’t correct that at our last discussion for you.”  


____

I observe her a moment, neutral in my bearing, wondering why she is telling me this. Normally I would have immediately disregarded it by accepting the benefit to her as another possible manipulation attempt, but I wonder what gain she would have for doing that now.

“How would you like me to act around you from now on?”  
This should be her decision, either way, I think. Manipulation or no.  


Rachel’s jaw tenses as her stare returns to mine. There’s a lull of silence.  
She takes a sharp breath, pausing a beat before rushing out her words in a sigh, “I don’t know anymore.”  


She shakes her head, now turning away from me and crossing her arms over her chest.

“I like you a lot, Kayla.” She admits it like the fact needs to be said. “But I _am_ feeling confused about that, understanding it could all be only due to the closeness in this dire situation we’re in… yet recognizing we naturally have too much of a synergetic simpatico for me to want to entirely ignore.”

I want to reach out to her, to hold her, but I stay rooted to my place, knowing none of that would be a good solution to the situation.

She turns her body a quarter towards me, briefly looking back at me with a teasing smile, “And, you know, the sincerity of your affections towards me has been… _palpable_. Hard to ignore that. Though,” she concludes with a smiling acceptance, “it did genuine pierce me. How unusual it was to experience such affection from someone even after they knew something of the _real,_ me.” Her smile waned, “I found myself believing I _could be_ that person you were perceiving me to be.” She swallowed back some words and turned away again before muttering, “But you’ve too good a heart for me. Truly, I’ve done too much to live up to any of that.”

I chuckle sardonically, “You may think that only because you don’t know much of my past.”

Rachel glances back at me with clear skepticism.  
“I have doubt your activities could be anywhere as cancerous to morality as mine.”  


I smirk and reach out to touch her arm, “I’m not trying to compete. What I’m trying to say is that most people who’ve been around a while have things in their past they’re not so keen about. Whatever the experience, it’s true that it’s likely to have had influence over who you are now, but it doesn’t have to define you.”

Rachel narrows her eyes at me, the look brimming with incredulity.

__“Look, Rachel, you **are** an extraordinary woman. If you want my help to see yourself as this ‘better version’ of yourself, then you know I will be here to help you with that.” I casually place my hands in my pockets, but I do it to keep myself from touching her any further. “It’s the beginning of a new era, right? You can feel like redefining yourself if you think you must.” I lean closer to her for emphasis. “Plus,” I add with a wink, “even now I genuinely believe you aren’t too far from the person I see you as.”__

 _ _She turns her head, shaking it with a laugh. She rubs her arm and looks back at me. “You know, I’ve been really quite lucky to have you in my life at this point.” Her eyes linger on my face a moment as her weak smile raises, “Thank you, Kayla.” Soon enough she flicks her eyes away, her official demeanor suddenly returns as if no emotional waylay had occurred at all. “We ought to get to building up our perimeter before it gets too hot in the day.”_ _

__The non sequitur gearshift catches me for a half a beat, but I quickly hum concurrence. “Yep, good point. I’ll draft up a new checklist of duties to put out and grab the folks early to work with me on that. Thanks.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: The Rachel & Vince married thing (at this time?!) is **totally made up**. I just needed to feel out that "what if" for my MC.


End file.
